


Protocol

by goldenroses13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: First Kiss, Force Healing, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenroses13/pseuds/goldenroses13
Summary: Poe opens his eyes and stares up at Finn, still straining against the two Stormtroopers flanking him. His jaw is slack, his eyes wet. They haven’t laid a finger on him. But he’s staring at Poe like he’s the only one in that corridor, like he’s borne witness to every ounce of pain Poe has ever felt and will ever feel. It sends a shiver straight down his back.The Captain looks back and forth between the two. Poe swears she chuckles. “How interesting.”--Before the events of TROS, Poe makes Finn promise that he will never let the First Order use their bond against him. An alternate look at their capture aboard the Star Destroyer in TROS.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Finn, Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey, Poe Dameron & Leia Organa, Poe Dameron & Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 73
Kudos: 416





	1. Chapter 1

It doesn’t happen all that frequently, but Finn has learned how to tell when Poe needs his space. It doesn’t bother him. Truth be told, he’s just thankful to have Poe back on Ajan Kloss after what has been more than a week away on one of General Leia’s more discreet missions.

Perhaps Finn is wrong to always associate “discreet” with “dangerous,” but he doubts it. Word around camp is that it was a rescue operation — a rare opening to save two of their own thought lost to the First Order. Zara and Erik, Rose tells him over a lukewarm dinner of rations. A bit before his time.

Camp gossip never has and never will be known for its reliability, so he files it away for later and waits for Poe to come back and tell him himself. It’s not until Poe returns early on a warm morning, somber and distant despite arriving with his entire crew intact and nothing worse than a couple X-wings in desperate need of a mechanic, that Finn knows Rose heard the truth.

Poe is whisked away to Medical for mandatory tests, checkups, and who the hell knows what else before Finn can even greet him. That, along with hours of meetings and debriefs with the General, keeps him away for most of the day. So when Poe steps into his tent that evening, cleaned up and dressed in freshly laundered clothes, Finn can’t help himself. He practically dives into Poe’s arms.

"You’re back.” He pulls away to get a better look at Poe’s face. Despite his tidy appearance, there are dark gray circles under his eyes and a sickly, pale hue to his skin. Finn wonders distantly if he’s had anything to eat but continues on, trying to mask his concern for now.

“Leia and her secret operations.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “I get it. But-”

“Promise me something.”

Finn’s stomach flip-flops at the strain in Poe’s voice, the way his eyes glimmer in the dim lamplight of his tent. Half of Poe’s face is shadowed but Finn doesn’t miss the tension in his lower jaw, nor the way Poe grinds his teeth at the end of the sentence.

“Anything.” Finn says it without thinking, searching Poe’s face for some kind of sign of what he needs in this moment. Food. Water — or maybe something stronger. A quiet tent to rest in.

“Finn, I-” Poe’s eyes flutter shut and he breathes in, taking a beat.

“Poe, what happened out there?” Finn prods, abruptly filling the silence between them. He winces as soon as he says the words. It could be tonight or it could be next month, but Poe will tell him when he’s ready. He’s just not there yet.

“This war,” Poe says instead, ignoring the question. “If they ever take me-”

“Poe-”

“-Or worse, take _us_. Promise me you won’t let them use that against you.”

Finn pulls away, taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

“These people, Finn, they’ll do whatever it takes-”

“I’m familiar,” Finn reminds him with a hint of a smile, trying to calm Poe. “You _do_ remember how we met, right?”

Poe sighs, raking a hand through his hair and settling down on the floor of the tent. Finn follows suit, passing him an oversized cushion to relax against.

“This is all so much bigger than us,” Poe says, putting the cushion aside and leaning in toward Finn instead. “Finn, when things get dicey out there — and it’ll happen fast — I need your word. I need your word that the success of the Resistance is your priority.”

Finn swallows and sets his jaw. “I’m aware of our protocol.”

“Your word, Finn.”

Finn holds out his open hand, lifting his brow encouragingly. Poe grimaces, and that nearly makes Finn laugh. He’s starting to feel more like himself, then.

Poe drops his hand into Finn’s, clasping it firmly. Then, just like a switch turning on, suddenly his eyes are more vulnerable than Finn has ever seen them. And he realizes that, whatever happened out there on Leia’s mission, something in Poe has shifted for good.

“The Resistance is my priority,” Finn says, running a thumb over Poe’s knuckles. What he doesn’t say is: _But so are you._

* * *

The way Finn screams his name, frantic and raw, almost distracts Poe from the white-hot pain searing through his arm. He doesn’t even remember hitting the floor, but he’s aware his knees are going to bruise pretty damn badly. And suddenly Finn’s hands are on him.

He should’ve been more careful, should’ve let Finn or Chewie cover him before he careened down the corridor with the reckless flyboy behavior Leia has worked so hard to help him unlearn. He’s been better. He caught the Millennium Falcon on fire very recently, but he’s been better.

He lets Finn support some of his weight as he cradles his arm to his chest, brushing back his shirt’s torn fabric. His head spins at the sight and smell of scorched flesh. He can stomach a lot, but open wounds have never been on that list. He just hopes he doesn’t faint — now is certainly not the time.

“Your arm. You’re hurt.” Finn’s voice is calm but his hand forsakes him — it’s trembling as he runs it down Poe’s chest, searching for any hidden injuries. “Did they hit you anywhere else?”

“No,” Poe says, very much aware of the way his heart is leaping under Finn’s open palm. His own hand instinctively covers Finn’s as Chewie wails a warning behind them. “Just help me get on my feet, I’ll be fine. We need to find Rey, and then we can get the hell off this sh-”

And then there’s the unmistakable sound of armored boots echoing through both ends of the hallway.

Finn frantically reaches for the blaster abandoned at his side but Poe stops him. Finn locks eyes with him, puzzled.

“There are too many of them. We won’t make it out of here alive if we fight.”

“You got a better plan?” Finn hisses. But he listens, setting the blaster back down and lifting his arms in surrender as the Stormtroopers form a semicircle around them. Poe lifts his good arm, showing his empty hand, and Chewie places his own blaster at his feet with another indignant groan.

They cuff Chewie and Finn first before hauling Poe from the floor. He clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the way the Captain’s gloved fingers press into his wound, causing a fresh wave of pain to course through his entire arm.

“You’re hurting him!”

Poe twists to look back at Finn, startled. Finn’s dark eyes are alert, fixated on him. He thought he’d done a fine job of keeping a brave face. Maybe not.

“Finn,” Poe warns, shaking his head. “Don’t do anything-”

“Shut up!” The butt of the Captain’s blaster collides with his jaw, sending him sprawling back to the floor. He dizzily sees Finn strain against his captors. Thinks he hears him scream his name again.

Poe rests his cheek against the floor as he tries to center himself, breathing in and out to stay calm — the chilled tiling feels good on his face. He runs his tongue flat over both rows of teeth and tastes blood. Bruised knees, an aching jaw, a fried arm. He’s had worse.

But then a heavy boot on his bad shoulder rolls him over onto his back, and that — _that_ fucking hurts. The shock of it all makes him spit out the blood pooling in his mouth, gasping for more air.

_“Stop!”_

He feels Finn’s scream in his bones and braces himself — they will hurt Finn. They will hurt him and there’s nothing he can do to stop it, not when he’s helpless and weak on the floor. He waits for it.

But there’s nothing. Poe opens his eyes and stares up at Finn, still straining against the two Stormtroopers flanking him. His jaw is slack, his eyes wet. They haven’t laid a finger on him. But he’s staring at Poe like he’s the only one in that corridor, like he’s borne witness to every ounce of pain Poe has ever felt and will ever feel. It sends a shiver straight down his back.

The Captain looks back and forth between the two. Poe swears she chuckles. “How interesting.”

Poe’s head spins again, this time for a different reason. _Idiot_. Why didn’t he see it sooner? How could he have been so blind? So truly _stupid?_ He thinks of Zara, just a shell of herself, laid out and strapped into the ship’s interrogation table just within hearing distance of Erik’s holding cell. Poe had wept with her as she told him every secret, every Resistance plan she and Erik had divulged. He’d held her close as she passed.

Erik was long gone by the time Poe and his crew arrived.

“Supreme Leader Ren is looking for the girl,” the Captain says, bringing Poe back from the memory of that doomed mission. He sees a new fear flash across Finn’s face, but if Poe knows anything, it’s that Rey can handle herself.

“Continue to search the ship and separate her friends until he returns. He will want to speak with each of them. Alone.”


	2. Chapter 2

Poe shuffles to his feet when Leia dismisses her council and the rest of Poe’s crew from her tent. It’s been a long afternoon of documenting and rehashing and analyzing everything Zara told him as she died on the interrogation table, salty tears mixing with the dried blood streaked on her cheeks.

It’s an image he won’t soon forget.

Poe has lost count of how many times they’ve had to listen to his tapes, how many times he’s had to hear his own voice crack in the audio recordings. He should be able to recite it from memory by now, and yet he wouldn’t even know where to begin. He’s reached a level of exhaustion he didn’t know was possible.

“Commander Dameron,” Leia calls after him, still seated at the end of the table. He pauses at the entryway, back facing her. “A moment.”

Poe swallows and stands up a little straighter. He waits for the rest of the council to file out before turning to face her. “General?”

“You look terrible.”

Poe lets out a startled laugh that sounds more like a choked sob and makes his way back to the table, sinking down in the chair next to her. He drops his head in his hands and rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“You couldn’t save them,” Leia says, and even though Poe knows it’s true he still feels a fresh rage boil inside him.

“Maybe if we had been there earlier, even if by a few weeks-” He clears his throat and quickly corrects himself. “I’m not questioning your orders, General, but I-”

“It would’ve been a suicide mission, Poe. You know that.”

“And at what point is my life more valuable than two of your best Commanders?”

“It’s not about value. It’s about risk assessment. Don’t be difficult.”

There’s no heat behind Leia’s words. She puts a hand on the side of his face, searching his eyes for something. Then she sets her jaw and frowns.

“You’re on the ground until further notice.”

Poe pulls away, letting Leia’s hand fall. “What? Why?”

“You’ve taken this one too personally, Poe.”

“Zara died in my arms!” Poe reminds her. “They used what she had with Erik to get what they wanted out of her, and then they killed them both anyways. It’s not fair!”

He can still feel her body, far too thin, and see the blood caked along her hairline. The way her arms and legs were limp as if the bones had never existed. She’d been so beautiful last time he’d seen her — tall with light hair and sparkling green eyes and a contagious joy in everything she did. She’d been about his age, a couple years younger. They’d practically grown up in the Resistance together.

“This war has never been fair,” Leia says. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until she thumbs away a tear. “There’s a reason we try not to send family out together — husbands, wives, brothers, sisters. It’s hard enough to leave your own behind for the greater good. Throw someone you love into the mix? It never ends well.”

It’s a part of their training no one likes to think about — it’s one thing to be prepared to die yourself in order to preserve the Resistance’s secrets. It’s another to allow your fellow solider to be tormented and killed, to have that on your conscious forever. Poe looks down and realizes there’s still blood on his clothes and under his nails.

“Shit,” he mutters, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He wonders if he should apologize to Leia — for crying, for raising his voice, for challenging her orders to stay grounded. “General, I-”

“Unnecessary, Commander.” She smiles at him, and for the first time that day he can tell just how weary she is, too. “You’re dismissed. Go clean up. And check in with Finn before you turn in for the night. Rey, too. I know they’re anxious to see you.”

Poe groans. _Finn._ The medic from that morning had made some quip about Finn looking like a lost Corellian puppy without him around. Had he been in a better mood, it might’ve made him smile.

Later, as he washes Zara’s blood from his hands and changes into fresh clothes, he thinks back on his assignments from Leia over the past several months and mentally cross-references them with Finn’s.

They haven’t been together under her watch in nearly a year.

* * *

The Captain and two of her men strap him onto a table and leave him alone in a bright, almost blindingly white room. His entire body aches and the stiff table isn’t helping, and yet it’s a relief to be alone for a moment with his thoughts.

He goes down the list of what he knows so far:

Rey is somewhere on this ship, and right now she’s just about the only hope they have left.

His captors have separated him from Finn and Chewie. He’s almost certain it’s a scare tactic — if he read the Captain right, they’re not as interested in harming Finn as they are in using his vulnerabilities to manipulate him. And in this case, they’ve rightfully come to the conclusion that Poe is a vulnerability. That’s a problem for later.

Kylo Ren will be boarding the Star Destroyer, and soon. And if he’s not immediately caught up in tracking down Rey, it sounds like he’ll be paying Poe a visit.

He uselessly pulls against his restraints and lets out a frustrated groan. It’s Ren that concerns him the most — Poe can usually talk or fight his way out of just about anything. But he’ll never have the upper hand with Ren. He’s already learned that lesson.

He screws his eyes shut and lets his head fall back against the table. “Come on, Rey.”

Right at that moment, the door to his room swiftly slides open and shut. Poe cranes his neck up hopefully. But instead of Rey, an IT unit comes floating in.

Poe tenses up at the sight of the interrogation droid, eyes fixed on it as it hovers across the room and stops at his side. He tries in vain to move over to the far side of the table, but his restraints hold firm.

“I’m not telling you anything,” he says, trying to swallow down the wave of anxiety that’s quickly consuming him. “Tell your masters I want to talk about my friends.”

“This is not an interrogation,” the droid responds. “Or a negotiation.”

Two thin, metal arms shoot out from either side of its round base and a sharp hand collides with one side of Poe’s face, slicing his cheek open and slamming his head down against the slab. Before he can even shout, the droid’s other hand fixes itself to the top of Poe’s head and sends a shock deep into his body, vibrating all the way down to his toes.

For a moment he can’t move — or at least can’t access the part of his brain that _wants_ to move. The IT unit’s fingers flex in his hair and then dig in, slicing into his scalp with what feels like a thousand tiny blades. Poe finds he can’t scream, either — he simply doesn’t remember how. Instead his jaw goes slack and his vision starts to fade at the edges.

 _Don’t close your eyes, don’t close your eyes,_ he repeats to himself. He’s unsure he will wake up if he does. Some time passes — it’s hard to know how much — and the feeling comes back to his fingers first. He wags them experimentally and makes a fist with his hand, testing his grip. Just when he’s able to take a breath, finally filling up his burning lungs, the droid sends another wave of electricity through him while shoving its free hand deep into the gaping wound in his arm.

Poe closes his eyes.

* * *

Rey and Finn meet him in his dream. They’re aboard the Falcon, but everything around them is stark white. His head is cradled in Rey’s lap and Finn is kneeling at his side.

“Stay with us,” Rey says, her palms warm where she’s placed them on his cheek and forehead. She gently tilts his head back so she can look him in the eye. “Poe. Don’t go anywhere. Stay.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Poe admits. It’s strange, though. Because here, in this dream, he feels healed and whole and well-rested and everything he hasn’t been in so long. “I don’t have the strength.”

Finn leans over him now, holding Poe’s hand in both of his. “ _We_ are your strength.”

Poe shakes his head. “You’re going to have to do this without me. It’ll be okay.”

“Poe Dameron, I swear, if you leave me before I-”

“Dameron.”

His name leaves Rey’s lips but it’s not her voice — it’s low and deep, yet all too familiar to him somehow.

“Dameron,” she says again. “Wake up.”

* * *

“Wake up.”

It takes Poe a considerable effort to open his eyes — he longs to stay in the dream with his friends, memorizing the feel of Finn’s hands on his. His table has been tilted upright into more of a chair, forcing his restraints into his bloodied arm. His head is pounding and every inch of his body feels as if its been set on fire. There are clumps of dried blood in his eyelashes, so thick he can feel it stick when he blinks.

“I’m getting the feeling we’ve met before.”

Rey’s voice from his dream. But when his vision clears, it’s Kylo Ren who stands in front of him. Tall and dark and clad in his battle helmet. There’s an unmistakable chill to the room now, enough to make Poe shudder as those memories from the Finalizer come flying back to him. Memories he’s worked so hard to push away that they only come to him during his darkest nightmares. He tries to think of Finn instead — the light at the end of it all. He’d needed a pilot, and suddenly Poe was the luckiest prisoner of war alive.

“The best pilot in the Resistance, yes?” Ren goes on, a bitter smile in his voice. “The General’s favorite, they say. Not unlike a son to her.”

Poe’s chest tightens at the mention of Leia. All those years of risky moves and life-threatening stunts she’d never let him brush off, telling him, _I can’t lose you._ Not just as her Resistance pilot, no. But as her family.

“My friends,” Poe says. He’s surprised by the strength of his own voice, though his throat is bone dry. He needs water. “Are they-?”

“Unharmed.”

Poe knows he has no reason to believe Ren, yet he feels a rush of relief anyway. That relief quickly turns into nausea and he’s even more aware of his persistent headache. He tries to push past it — he needs to focus. To think.

“You don’t need all of us. You said it yourself, your moth-” He catches himself. “Leia will negotiate for my return. Let them go, Ren. I’m more valuable to you than any of them.”

“Not Rey.”

“Maybe not Rey,” he admits. “But I don’t know where she is.”

“She’s aboard the ship.”

“Rey goes wherever the hell she wants. _I don’t know._ ”

“It wasn’t a question,” Ren snaps. And then he’s quiet for a moment, as if listening to something Poe can’t hear. “She’s here. Hidden. But here. And I think I know how to find her.”

The holding cell door slides open and two Stormtrooper guards, blasters at their side, step in.

“Bring FN-2187 and the Wookiee,” Ren tells them, never turning away from Poe. “We all have some catching up to do.”


	3. Chapter 3

Finn is on his feet as soon as he hears the familiar sound of armored boots approaching his holding cell.

He tries to brace himself for what’s next, whatever that is. He knows that Poe is nearby. Alive. He can feel it. But there’s a distinct thread of anguish echoing through the space between them that has burrowed into Finn’s body, creating a pressure on his chest that makes him feel like someone has stacked clay bricks on his ribcage.

Somewhere behind him, Chewie lets out a distressed wail.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Finn says, partially to himself. He swings around to look at Chewie and tries to offer what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry, we’re not leaving without him. Or Rey.”

Chewie grumbles and waves his arms as best he can with his wrists cuffed.

“Yeah,” Finn’s smile drops and he tightens his jaw. “I know what Poe would say.”

But he also knows — despite what their training requires of them, despite what Poe has made him promise, and despite Poe’s immovable devotion to the Resistance — he knows that Poe would never leave him behind.

The holding cell doors slide open and two Stormtroopers step inside, wordlessly taking each of them by the arm. Finn flinches at the blaster shoved between his shoulder blades and walks ahead.

Poe’s discomfort becomes more and more palpable the further they walk. Finn tries to focus on memorizing their pathway through the maze of corridors instead — there’s nothing he can do, not when he’s cuffed with a blaster pressed to his back. But almost as soon as they stop outside a new set of doors at the end of the hallway, he’s hit with a distinct jolt of dread.

He can feel a second presence, it’s so clear, and for a short moment, he thinks it’s Rey and his heart leaps with relief. But it doesn’t make sense — not with the way Poe is suffering.

They’re ushered inside the moment the doors open and Finn stops abruptly, nearly stumbling over his own feet and causing the Stormtrooper behind him to force him forward.

It takes him a moment to recognize Poe. His weight is only supported by the straps keeping him fastened to the interrogation table-turned-chair and his face is covered in fresh blood. Part of his shirtsleeve has been torn away and his wound from the blaster is on full display, burnt and oozing and freshly bloodied. The coppery smell in the air is enough to make Finn sick. Poe stares back at him, his eyes alert and alive despite all that’s clearly happened to him during their separation. It’s then that Finn notices a droid — an IT unit — floating behind Poe’s head, its metal fingers latched onto his scalp.

“Poe,” Finn breathes, his heart fluttering in his chest. He wheels around to face the Stormtroopers. “Get that droid off of-”

Finn freezes. The Stormtroopers have left and Kylo Ren stands in their place.

“No,” Finn says, trembling more from rage than fear. He takes several steps toward Ren. “No, no, _no-”_

“Finn, don’t!” Poe says at the same time Chewie wails a warning and retreats to a far corner of the room.

Ren lifts a hand and before Finn can even scream, the cuffs around his wrists loosen and fall to the floor. Finn stops abruptly and looks up from his freed hands to Ren, stunned.

“Your friend was willing to remain here if I released you,” Ren says, voice low through his helmet. “Isn’t that kind? Heroic, even.”

Finn shakes his head and looks back at Poe, his jaw set. “Let Chewie leave, then, but I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Chewie roars in protest and Poe closes his eyes, letting his head fall back.

“He’s not going to let you leave,” Poe says quietly. He swallows. “Finn-“

“Actually,” Ren interrupts. “I’m prepared to let all three of you leave. But I’ll need your help with something first-”

“Finn!” Poe says, louder now with a desperate edge, pushing forward against his restraints. “You gave me your word-”

Ren lifts a hand, this time in Poe’s direction. Suddenly his jaw clamps shut and his lips tighten. Poe takes a deep breath through his nose, eyes wide.

“I think we’ll make more progress this way,” Ren says, a touch of humor in his tone. “He must love the sound of his own voice.”

He crosses the room to stand next to Poe. Poe’s eyes follow him, his breathing becoming heavier, and for a moment Finn can feel Poe’s racing pulse inside his own veins.

Finn tries to take a step toward him — a natural, ingrained instinct to protect him in any way he can — but his feet are suddenly as heavy as stones and stuck to the floor beneath him. From the way Chewie growls on the other side of the room, Finn suspects he’s been similarly compromised.

“What do you want?” Finn asks, clenching his fists until his nails dig into his palms. “You said you needed our help. With what?”

Finn pointedly does not look at Poe, though he can feel Poe’s eyes boring into him. He’s not an idiot — he knows getting Poe off this ship alive will mean nothing if he divulges anything that could bring about the downfall of the Resistance. But if it’s something they can counter, something they can fight — it’ll be worth it. Even if Poe hates him for it, it’ll be worth it.

“There’s something strong between the two of you,” Ren says, resting a gloved hand on the back of the table just behind Poe’s shoulder and making him flinch. “A bond the naked eye could spot, of course, but something deeper, too.”

He points at Finn.

“It radiates from you.”

Finn stares down at his feet, mind racing. This is not how he wanted Poe to find out, not before he’s even had the chance to tell Rey and really sit with what it means to have these abilities quite literally at his fingertips. It has the power to change his relationship with each and every person he loves. He doesn’t take that lightly.

“But I sense something even stronger,” Ren says, pulling Finn out of his thoughts. “Something stronger between you and Rey.”

 _Stronger in a different way,_ Finn wants to correct. His eyes flicker over to Poe, who’s staring at him now with an expression he can’t even begin to read. It’s suddenly softer. Vulnerable. Finn looks away quickly, panicked.

“You know where she is,” Ren continues. “She boarded with you but took off on her own. Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Finn says truthfully, a knot twisting in his stomach. “Why don’t you go find her yourself?”

“Something tells me this might be a faster way to draw her out.”

The IT droid’s lights flash twice and Poe’s back arches off the table, his moan muffled through his closed lips. Finn tries to move again but his legs don’t comply. It’s as if they’re detached from the rest of his body with an agenda of their own.

“It’s a light current, for now,” Ren says, moving his hand to rest on Poe’s shoulder as he settles back against the chair, chest heaving.

“Is that all you want?” Finn asks miserably. “To know where Rey is? Because I don’t know. She just, she left-”

Poe’s body leaps violently from the chair again, held in only by the straps across his chest and legs. The droid’s fingers pulse into his scalp and Finn watches, horrified, as fresh blood trickles down past his hairline.

“I’m telling you the truth!” Finn screams over Chewie’s angry roars and the electronic buzz of the interrogation droid. “I don’t know where she is!”

Ren waves his hand and the droid powers off with a few low beeps. Finn’s shoulders sag with relief. He quickly wipes away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Poe’s own eyes are shut and he’s limp against the chair, but at least he’s still breathing.

“Focus,” Ren says, barely above a whisper. He takes a few steps closer to Finn. Finn feels his knees give out and in one swift motion he’s suddenly kneeling. Ren drops to his knees across from him and it’s strangely intimate, like they’re two friends sharing a secret. “You know when she’s close, don’t you? _Focus_.”

Finn falls forward onto his palms and reluctantly shuts his eyes. He’s missing something, he knows that — either Rey has somehow found a way to block Ren from accessing her whereabouts or Ren is simply tormenting them like this to draw her out of the shadows, knowing she’ll feel their distress, too. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

Every time he tries to think of Rey and place her in the wandering corridors of the ship, his mind drifts to Poe. He’s distracted by his ragged breathing, and how shallow it sounds now. And then there’s Chewie, uncharacteristically quiet in the corner. He thinks of Leia, too, and how hard Poe will take it if they let her down again after a series of painful losses.

He can’t find Rey, not with his untrained and racing mind. And it occurs to him that maybe that’s what she wants. If Ren can’t seek her out on his own, maybe she truly has shielded herself. From both of them. She’d be able to escape undetected, warping the minds of every Stormtrooper and officer she encountered along the way, and Ren would be none the wiser for as long as he remained in this holding cell.

Finn opens his eyes and stares straight into the shielded visor of Kylo’s helmet, feeling surprisingly calm. He’s going to have to come to terms with the growing reality that they will all die in here. Better start now, and buy Rey as much time as he can.

“I can’t exactly do this on command,” he says. And then, because he’s feeling bolder than he should, “Shouldn’t you know that?”

Ren sighs and stands up abruptly, leaving Finn on the floor. “Maybe this will help speed things along.”

Ren lifts one hand, palm up, and Poe’s injured arm lifts with it. Poe stirs, his eyes growing wide as he watches his own body move against his will. Then Ren gently turns his hand over, the movement as smooth as closing the back cover of a book, and contracts his fingers.

At some point, Ren must have loosened his hold on Poe’s jaw, because Poe screams. He screams so loud that Finn’s hands fly up to cover his ears. Chewie roars furiously at him, fighting against the hold Ren has over him and trying in vain to get to Poe’s side.

There’s blood and muscle tissue and flayed skin spiraling out of the gaping wound on Poe’s arm, twisting in the air above him. Finn’s stomach lurches. Ren is dissecting him from the inside out.

“I’m sorry,” Finn cries, screwing his eyes shut and curling in on himself. He wants to die. He’s never felt so ready to, not even during his darkest days with the First Order. “Poe, please, I-”

Finn flinches and opens his eyes when Poe screams again, louder this time as he writhes against the chair. His arm is beginning to bend at an unnatural angle and Ren is using both hands now, drawing Poe’s face forward. Finn can tell by the crease in Poe’s forehead that he’s trying to focus on something, focus on keeping Ren _out._

And then Finn hears the distinct sound of splintering bone and tearing skin.

“No!” Finn shrieks, slamming his fists into the ground. He realizes he’s sobbing. Maybe he has been for a while now. He’s never felt so helpless. So _useless_. His entire body aches from trying to push past Ren’s hold, from doing everything in his limited power just to get closer to Poe. “Stop! Just stop! I’ll tell you where Rey is.”

Ren drops his hands and Poe’s entire body sags. But he’s awake this time, crying openly from the pain. Finn feels himself shaking from head to toe as he looks up at Ren in undisguised panic. He has no clue what to say next.

“You’re stalling.”

Finn hears Poe scream his name before he even notices Ren’s hand extending toward him. He braces himself for what’s coming. There’s a twitch of pain at the very front of his skull, a burning sensation.

And then Rey is hurling past him, a tiny flash of blue light and brown hair.

A few things happen very quickly — Finn feels a weight lifted and he jumps up to his feet, just as Chewie’s cuffs burst open and rattle to the floor. Ren is slammed into the far wall with a single flick of Rey’s wrist. And that’s where he stays.

“Poe,” Rey breathes. She rushes to his side and uses her lightsaber to cut through the straps securing him to the chair. She slices through the droid next, checking to make sure the prongs in its fingers are loose before pulling it off of Poe’s head. Finn steps up next to her, catching Poe’s weight as he slumps forward.

He presses his palm flat on Poe’s back, just to feel him breathe. This close, Finn can sense how weak he is. He can feel each time he slips in and out of consciousness, can see the way the light and dark flicker in the corners of his vision. But he also feels the way Poe’s fingers twist in the fabric of his vest, pulling him closer. And right now, that’s the best feeling in the entire galaxy.

“You came back for us,” Finn says, hooking his chin over Poe’s shoulder and looking at Rey.

Rey scrunches her nose, puzzled. “Of course I did.”

On the far side of the room, Ren stirs and reaches for the saber on his belt. Finn wraps his arms a little tighter around Poe.

“Go, now!” Rey says, jumping to her feet and standing in front of them, a human shield. “They have the Falcon. Chewie, you’re going to have to fly it out of here without Poe. You won’t have to worry about the guards outside the door — I took care of them. Just grab their blasters and get out of here. _Now_.”

Chewie doesn’t need to be told a third time. He wails his agreement and bends down, throwing Poe over his shoulder like a rag doll and racing out through the door.

Finn grabs Rey’s hand in both of his, squeezing before turning on his heel to follow.

“Finn!” Rey calls after him.

He spins back around to face her.

“Don’t leave without me.”

He grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She nods, turning back to face Ren as Finn hurries after Chewie, grabbing one of the guards’ blasters as he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will **actually** be the final one (I think). We'll take a little break from torture and turmoil and work through feelings and force sensitivity and basically all the stuff I wanted to write about when I initially started this story, but had to properly set up.
> 
> Anyhow, hope you've enjoyed it so far!


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as the fighting is over, Finn climbs down from the Falcon’s gunbay and dry heaves over the nearest waste bin.

Nothing comes up. He hasn’t eaten or had anything to drink in hours.

He squeezes his eyes shut and slides down to the floor. There’s a dull, painful ache in his chest. He places his hand directly over his heart, counting the beats as his pulse races, and tries to focus. To _breathe_.

He has to stand up.

As much as his body wants to sink down into the nearest bunk and sleep for days, he has to stand up.

He has to take care of Poe.

Finn wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, pushes himself up to his feet, and quickly makes his way through the corridor. He rounds the corner into the main hold at the same time Rey emerges from the freight loading room, panting and disheveled. She shrieks at the sight of him and rushes forward, throwing her arms around him and sinking against his chest.

“Did you...?” Finn asks carefully when they pull apart. “Is Ren…?”

Rey sets her jaw and shakes her head, abruptly ending the conversation before it has truly begun. Her eyes, red-rimmed and nearly bloodshot, dart down to the floor. Finn wants to press, wants to know what happened in that holding cell after he and Chewie ran out with Poe. But then something slams into his ankles, quickly followed by a series of annoyed beeps.

“Ow!” Finn gasps, letting go of Rey. BB-8 rolls backward and looks up at him expectantly before speeding off down the corridor, toward the crew’s quarters.

“Come on,” Rey says, ducking her head and following after the droid. Finn follows behind her, making a mental note to check in later. Something’s not right.

Poe is in one of the bunks, pale and unmoving aside from the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Rey drops down by the pillow, lifting him up carefully so his head falls in her lap. His hand is cold when Finn takes it, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and pressing two fingers against the inside of his wrist.

“He’s weak,” Finn says, trying to keep his voice even. It doesn’t help. BB-8 lets out a few panicked beeps at his feet.

“He’s lost some blood,” Rey nods, brushing Poe’s hair from his forehead. “But I think it’s mostly shock.”

Rey presses her hand into Poe’s shoulder. His arm is limp and bruised at his side. What’s left of his shirtsleeve covers the worst of where Ren tore his skin and fractured the bone, but there’s still burnt blood caked around the blaster fire wound.

“Be careful with him,” Finn warns her, and then remembers the serpent beneath the quicksand. _Oh._

Rey’s eyes flutter shut and Finn watches, jaw slack in awe, as the purpled bruising on Poe’s arm fades away and replaces itself with unblemished, tan skin. The bloodied hole closes in on itself leaving nothing, not even a hint of a scar, behind. Next she moves her hand up to the top of his head, her brow creasing.

“Stay with us,” she whispers, cupping Poe’s cheek with her other hand. “Poe. Don’t go anywhere. Stay.”

He looks from Rey down to Poe’s face, still and pale as a marble statue. He waits for an eyelid to twitch or his lips to tug down in a frown. But he doesn’t move. And even though he knows Poe will be okay now, that Rey won’t let him slip away, a rush of adrenaline mixed with something like panic washes over him. He’d nearly lost him that time. Really, truly lost him.

Finn lifts Poe’s hand to his lips, kissing his white knuckles and squeezing. _Poe Dameron, I swear, if you leave me before I get the chance to tell you I love you…_

“Don’t worry,” Rey says, cutting into his thoughts, her eyes still closed. She’s smiling. “He’s not going anywhere. He’s back.”

Right on cue, before Finn can even address what’s just happened, Poe’s fingers tighten around his. Rey sags back against the wall and shuts her eyes.

Finn brushes the fact that Rey just responded to one of his more intimate thoughts aside and puts a hand on either side of Poe’s face, smiling widely as he blinks awake. “Hey.”

Poe grabs his wrists in a painfully tight grip, panic flashing across his face. “Finn?”

“It’s me. You’re on the Falcon,” Finn says, keeping his voice low and calm. “It’s safe here.”

“Did everyone make it back on board?” Poe asks, pushing himself up on his elbows abruptly. He moves to swing a leg over the edge of the bunk. BB-8 rolls up next to them, chattering happily.

“Easy,” Finn says, dropping a hand on Poe’s thigh. “Everyone’s here, so take it slow? Please?”

“He’ll be all right. A nice perk of the Force; no bed rest necessary,” Rey says from her spot next to Poe, giving Finn a tired smile over the top of Poe’s head. “I’ll teach you how to do it sometime.”

Finn’s eyes widen. _She knows._ He hasn’t said a thing — not about Poe, the Force, or any of it — yet she knows. And as much as he would’ve liked to actually have that conversation, in some ways he’s thankful it can remain known but unspoken for now. They still have a war to win.

He looks to Poe to gauge his reaction but he isn’t even listening, tracing his fingers down his healed arm in open disbelief instead.

Poe sits all the way up and stares at Rey. “You…?”

Rey nods.

“…Thank you,” he says a little uncertainly, rubbing at his arm. His eyes flicker over to Finn and then quickly away. “I need to help Chewie in the cockpit.”

“I’ll do it,” Rey says, climbing to her feet. She makes a small noise in the back of her throat and stumbles. Poe reaches out, grabbing her shoulder to steady her.

“Seems like you might need more rest than me right now,” he points out. But Rey good-naturedly smacks his hand away and makes her way toward the cockpit.

Finn drops his own hand over Poe’s where it rests on the edge of the bunk.

“I know she…” Finn waves at Poe’s arm and shrugs. “…Healed you and all. But could you sit still for a moment? At least let me clean you up a bit.”

They’re both silent while Finn washes the blood away from Poe’s face. Finn tries not to let his fingers linger anywhere too long, hyperaware of how far away Poe seems, the growing distance in his eyes. All Finn wants to do is gather him in his arms and hold him for just a few minutes.

“So you don’t feel…anything?” Finn finally asks, dropping the last of the bloodied rags into a bucket. “You’re not hurt anywhere?”

Poe shrugs his shoulders and leans over to pat BB-8, who chirps happily. “She really took care of me.” He nods toward the cockpit. “I can see why you’re so in love with her.”

Finn’s eyebrows shoot up. Even BB-8 trills in surprise.

“What? With Rey?”

“Finn, listen,” Poe says, angling toward him. “We need to talk.”

“Poe-”

“I can’t do this with you anymore,” Poe blurts out, passing a hand over his face. “I’m sending you back to camp.”

BB-8 rotates between Poe and Finn and lets out a dejected beep. Poe looks down at his droid, frowning.

“Could you give us a moment? Please?”

Finn pulls back, eyes narrowing, while BB-8 rolls away. “I’m not leaving. Poe, come on, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m not asking. It’s an order. Finn, you promised me that if anything happened to us you could make the Resistance your priority. But I don’t think you can. And frankly, when it comes to you, neither can I. So this-” he gestures between them. “This doesn’t work.”

Finn swallows. “Forget our training, all the rules…Poe, don’t you think that’s why we need to stay together? If we’re not fighting for each other, what’s this all about?”

“The greater good,” Poe counters. “And with you, and Rey…Finn, I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. For now.”

Finn blows air through his nose. He feels his cheeks growing warm with anger. “You have never pushed me away like this, after everything we’ve been through.”

“Well, Finn, that was before I realized I had fallen in love with you, so things are a bit different now.”

It slips out so suddenly, even Poe looks like he can’t believe he’s said it. For a moment, Finn can’t do anything but stare even when he knows he should say something. Poe slams his fist against the frame of the bunk in frustration and moves to stand. Finn’s mind catches up with his body and he reaches out, grabbing hold of Poe’s hand and pulling him back down. He doesn’t give himself much time to think when he drags Poe in for a kiss by his scarf.

To his credit, Poe doesn’t seem to question it — just chases after Finn’s lips hungrily and breathes into the kiss. His lips are a bit dry and chapped, but Finn doesn’t care. He just wants to live in this moment for as long as he can.

“Well,” Finn says a bit sheepishly when they finally part. “That may have complicated things.”

“You’re telling me,” Poe says, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Finn…”

BB-8 speeds back into the main hold with a series of loud, shrill beeps. Rey trails after the droid, eyes darting back and forth between Finn and Poe, suspicious.

“Beebee-Ate said you’re sending Finn back to camp,” Rey cocks an eyebrow at Poe, crossing her arms. “May I ask why?”

Poe throws his hands in the air and stands up, crossing to the other side of the room. “You know what? Forget it.”

He turns on his heel and heads down the corridor. BB-8 looks up at Rey with a low beep.

“We’ve all had a rough go of it,” Rey says to the droid, giving Finn a tight smile. She points down the corridor. “Everything okay there?”

Finn shrugs, wringing his hands anxiously. As much as he wants to follow after Poe, he knows they each need a moment to themselves. And there’s still so much important work ahead of them. Too much work for distractions.

“We’ll talk later,” Rey says. Finn wonders if she’d be able to read him just as well without the help of the Force.

“About Poe?”

“About all of it,” she says. “If we — if _I_ — make it out of this alive-”

“Rey.”

“I can help you. Train you.”

Finn nods, feeling a little thrill course through his body. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Later, then,” Finn says. He pushes himself up to his feet and almost immediately sits back down, surprised at how unsteady on his feet he is. It’s all catching up with him now.

“You should rest,” Rey says. “You’ll need it. I’ve set course for Kef Bir.”

* * *

Poe is already dead on his feet when they arrive back at camp on Ajan Kloss. The healing energy Rey pushed through his body is fading out with every hour.

And then they hear the news and his knees give out.

Finn catches him. Chewie wails somewhere to his left. He clings to Finn for a moment, their exchange on Kef Bir echoing in his ears. _Well, I’m not Leia._

_That’s for damn sure._

He pushes Finn away like he’s been stung and leans on Rose, who has seemingly materialized at his side. She squeezes his arm and leads him to Leia’s tent, whispering something in his ear that just sounds like jumbled words.

It could be hours or it could be minutes, but he falls asleep kneeling at Leia’s bedside with his hand on top of hers, cheek pressed into the mattress. It’s dark outside when he wakes up to someone touching him low on his back.

He sits up straight and winces, his shoulders and hips screaming from his ill-advised sleeping position

“Hey,” Finn’s voice is quiet and low. “You okay?”

“Not really,” Poe croaks, rubbing his face and blinking at Finn through the darkness, letting his eyes adjust. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

There’s still a bit of a chill between them, even as Finn rubs his hand up and down Poe’s back.

“Poe, what I said back on Kef Bir-”

“It’s okay, Finn.” And he means it. He has a Resistance to lead. Larger problems to worry about now. An emotional spat fueled by exhaustion and words left unsaid should not be on that list.

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Finn’s shoulders sag in relief. He squeezes Poe’s arm and tries on a strained smile.

“Everyone’s out there, waiting to hear from you.”

Poe falls silent and listens. Sure enough, he can hear the hushed conversations just a few yards beyond the tent walls. He stands up and crosses over to Leia’s old desk, dropping into a chair and groaning into his hands.

“I can’t do this right now. All this time she’s been training me for this, trusting me with this, her life’s work. And now that it’s time, Finn, I’m paralyzed.”

Even though he knows he’s not Leia — Finn was right about that, no matter how many times Poe knows he’ll apologize — there’s a nagging doubt that he’ll even succeed in his own right. But she would tell him it’s not about carving out his own place in history. That the real heroes in a story don’t take pride in what they can accomplish alone.

“If there’s anyone in the Resistance who’s cut out for this job, it’s you,” Finn says. “Leia knew that. I know that. And I’m not just saying it because I’m in love with you, too.”

Poe looks up at him, startled. He’d almost forgotten what he confessed back on the Falcon, even wondered if Finn had mercifully let it go for both of their sakes. But now Finn is staring at him with a smile so blindingly beautiful it makes him ache.

“When did you…?” Poe shrugs, feeling more than a little stupid.

“Know?” Finn finishes for him. He shrugs and pulls a chair across from Poe’s, dropping into it. “I don’t even know. It’s like, one day I just saw you and I knew. Something was different, but also exactly the same. Just like when I realized there was something…there. With the Force.”

Poe’s eyes widen. At this point, he’s had enough surprises to last him a lifetime. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“Yeah.” Finn actually laughs and Poe wants to smack him for that. But then he realizes it’s out of relief. He’s been holding onto this for so long. “That’s what I wanted to tell Rey. I was going to tell you, I swear it, but she deserved to know first. And now she does. And, well…”

“Oh,” Poe says, dropping his head in his hands. Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Oh, Finn, I’m sorry — this entire time I thought…”

Finn drags his chair closer, pulling Poe’s hands away from his face and holding them on top of his lap. “When they…when they were hurting you? When Ren had you in that chair? I had never felt so close to you. It was like the Force was reminding me why we found each other in the first place. We’re supposed to do this together. To _be_ together. And maybe it’s different for you, because you’ve been doing this all your life and it’s a part of who you are. But I’m not _here_ without _you_.”

“It’s not that different for me,” Poe says quietly. He thinks of Leia, keeping them apart mission after mission. She knew. She knew and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. “From the moment we met, there’s always been…something. But you also had something with Rey, and I just figured…”

He lets his sentence trail off, shrugging.

“It’s a different something _,”_ Finn assures him. He squeezes his hands.

Poe gives him a small smile. “I’m guessing it’s not something I’ll ever understand.”

Finn laughs. “Not unless you’ve been holding out on us.”

“But what you just said,” Poe says, suddenly serious again. “That we’re supposed to do this together? That the Force brought us here? You’re right. I can’t do this alone. I need you in command with me.”

Leia knew and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. But it is now. She would know that.

And even so, he’s not Leia.

“Okay,” Finn nods, grinning. “Yeah.”

“It’ll get nasty out there,” Poe warns.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Finn reassures him. Poe can’t help but smile at his confidence, no matter how misplaced it is. Finn nods toward the entryway. What’s left of the Resistance if waiting for them. “You ready to get out there, then?”

Poe nods. And then pauses. “Can I kiss you? General?”

“General,” Finn grins and leans in.

Poe smiles. They just might be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. This was initially meant to be a quick little story, but it got away from me and I'm really thankful for that. Leia was not even part of the initial outline, but as everything unfolded she just made sense and helped tie everything together so well.
> 
> I'd love to write more for this fandom, so I hope you've enjoyed what you've read so far.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything for Star Wars and I relied VERY heavily on Wookieepedia. Let me know if anything is completely off so I can fix it.
> 
> Tumblr: goldenroses13.tumblr.com


End file.
